


The Old Ball and Chain

by Evil Twin (Malora)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Being an Asshole, Albus Dumbledore Being an Idiot, Albus Dumbledore Lives, Arranged Marriage, BAMF Dobby (Harry Potter), Blue Balls, Bondage, Comedy, Crack, Dark Comedy, Dom Lucius Malfoy, Evil Lucius Malfoy, Forced Marriage, Funny, Good Severus Snape, Horny Teenagers, House-Elf Abuse (Harry Potter), Kidnapping, Lucius Malfoy Dies, M/M, Magic Cock, Magical Bond, Marriage Contracts, Master/Slave, One Shot, Over the Top, Parody, Satire, Slavery, Virginity, Voldemort Dies (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-01
Updated: 2008-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malora/pseuds/Evil%20Twin
Summary: A Snarry parody. Harry needs protection, and the best course is for Harry to become magically enslaved to a wizard who…well, you get the idea. If you don't know how this little ditty goes, you haven't been reading enough Snarry.Originally posted on walkingtheplank.org
Relationships: Dobby/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Old Ball and Chain

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a chilling indictment of the HP/SS industry. It is parody made by a HP/SS reader, a sort of post-bondage-reading digestif.

"Wow, it's great to be back at Hogwarts to complete our seventh year, now that we've defeated Voldemort," said Ron.  
  
"Ron, I told you not to drink that succinctly summarizing potion," said Hermione. "You've been succinctly summarizing all day."  
  
"I'm just excited, that, at eighteen, we get to be back at Hogwarts again," said Ron, clapping his hands together. "You'd think we'd all want to study independently so we could be out on our own, instead of being subjected to repressive school rules. But nope, here we are. All our classmates, too."  
  
"Wait a minute," Harry broke in. "I thought we were all eighteen because there was a time-turner accident…"  
  
"No, we all returned to school. Or maybe they changed the age requirements at Hogwarts so all 7th years are eighteen. I forget."  
  
"Well, just so long as we're eighteen," said Harry. "That seems important to stress, for some reason."  
  
"Indeed," Hermione intoned solemnly. "We are all eighteen. Old enough to do many things. Like…vote, for example."  
  
"God, I can't wait to vote," said Ron fervently. "I could vote all day long. Until I was sore. From voting." He pressed toward Hermione. "What about you? Aren't you dying to finally, _finally_ …vote?"  
  
Hermione sniffed. "I'm not voting until I've considered all the candidates and made an educated decision."  
  
Ron hunched his back, clenching his fists. "Dammit."  
  
Harry grinned at his two best friends as he leaned back comfortably on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. He loved it when they sniped at and insulted each other. It was a sure sign they were in love. True love, he always felt, was finding someone you completely despise and releasing that hatred in a bout of wild shagging. He closed his eyes, imagining it.  
  
"Harry. Harry!" Hermione called out.  
  
Harry winced as her screeching voice bounced off his eardrums. "What?"  
  
"You drifted off again. Have you been getting enough sleep?"  
  
"Not really," Harry admitted. "For the past few nights, I've been having these disturbing, erotic dreams."  
  
"Harry!" shrieked Hermione, her voice soaring higher than an owl on amphetamines. "That is highly inappropriate!"  
  
"Yeah!" said Ron. "Go on."  
  
"Well," said Harry, leaning forward, "Every night I dream that someone crawls into my bed, strips off my pajamas, and caresses my naked body."  
  
"Er," said Ron, turning red. "You didn’t have this dream right after our 6th year Christmas party, did you? The night we had all that firewhiskey?"  
  
"No, just the past few nights. Why do you ask?"  
  
"No reason," said Ron quickly. "So…ah…this person who crawls into bed with you? Who is it?"  
  
"Dunno," said Harry. "All I can remember is black, silky hair and long, pale fingers. Oh, and a giant cock. I was thinking it might be Cho Chang. I've always fancied her. Although the cock is a bit out of place."  
  
"It does seem unlike her," agreed Hermione.  
  
With a loud crack, Dobby appeared in the common room, holding a piece of parchment.  
  
"Dobby is having a message for Master Harry Potter," he announced, squealing slightly on 'Harry.' "Oh, it is so good to see you, Master Harry," he said, wrapping his arms around Harry's left leg, his head rubbing fondly against Harry's knee.  
  
Harry leaned back into the sofa. "It's…er…nice to see you, too."  
  
"Dobby is missing Master Harry so much," said Dobby. "I is keeping newspaper clippings of Master Harry, so I is not lonely at night." Dobby moved his green body against the denim of Harry's jeans in a rhythmic motion as Ron and Hermione watched with a combination of morbid fascination and impatience. It wasn't exactly the first time.  
  
Harry yanked the note out of Dobby's hand. "Thanks, Dobby. You can go now." He shook his leg, attempting to dislodge the creature.  
  
Dobby looked up at Harry with eyes the size of tennis balls. "Is Master Harry having lonely nights, too? Dobby can help—"  
  
"What have you heard? I mean, I'm fine," said Harry, prying the elf off his leg.  
  
Dobby gave him a pout. "Dobby is having prospects, you know. Dobby isn't waiting forever." Then, with a twirl, he disappeared.  
  
"I have prospects, too," Harry muttered as he opened the message. "Hmm," he said as he read it. "Dumbledore wants to see me."  
  
"Good thing he survived the war," said Ron. "He helped you defeat Voldemort with his invaluable wisdom. You owe him, Harry. So much so that you would do anything he asked, I imagine."  
  
"I hope that potion wears off soon," muttered Hermione.  
  


X X X

  
  
Harry smiled as he called out "licorice sticks" and the gargoyle leapt aside. The headmaster truly understood children, what with him liking sweets and all. Harry couldn't wait to hear what the headmaster wanted to talk about. He was sure it would be wonderful, wonderful news.  
  
"Hullo, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I need you to become a sex slave."  
  
"Hang on--is that why you signed me up for those massage and grape-feeding lessons?" asked Harry.  
  
"No, that was for the staff party later this year. I'm speaking of your upcoming marriage," said the headmaster, his eyes twinkling like disco balls at a particularly seedy night club. "You see, with Voldemort trying to murder you—"  
  
"But we killed Voldemort!" protested Harry.  
  
"Ah, yes. It turns out we didn't kill him enough, and he's back. And if you thought he wanted to kill you before," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, chortling heartily. His eyes danced and gleamed and glittered. "Now you've made him really angry. He is not going to stop until you are dead, dead, dead."  
  
"You had me at the first 'dead,' Sir." said Harry.  
  
"In fact," said Dumbledore, "this sort of rage brings out the fetishist in Tom. Before he kills you, he'll most likely want to humiliate you. Sexually. You know, chain you up naked, make you crawl on all fours with a dog collar. That sort of thing." The headmaster nodded solemnly, his eyes spinning and sparkling and whirling.  
  
Harry was getting dizzy. And nauseous. "What does this have to do with me getting married? Shouldn't I work on a spell to defeat Voldemort?"  
  
"Oh, no. We need to focus on protecting you. And since the blood wards are gone, marriage is the next best protection."  
  
"It is?" said Harry. "You mean in the thousands of years wizards have been developing spells, no one has come up with another protection spell besides blood wards?"  
  
"Nope. Not a one," said Dumbledore. "But a lot of marriage rituals have protection for the younger party built into them. So we'll cobble together one of those to suit our needs. Nothing like putting a square peg into a round hole, so to speak." Dumbledore winked at him in a grandfatherly way. Not a kindly grandfather, but the type of grandfather seen at bus stations, smelling of gin, with his hands buried a little too deeply in his pockets.  
  
"If you say so," said Harry doubtfully. "I mean, lots of people have wonderful marriages, where the partners treat each other as equals…"  
  
"Oh, that won't happen here," the headmaster assured him. "You need to be bound to a strong wizard who can protect you, and the only one available is domineering, with a terrible temper and a deep desire to humiliate you." Dumbledore paused, scratching his beard as he pondered. "Not much of a looker, either."  
  
"Wizard?" squeaked Harry. "But Sir, I'm not gay!"  
  
"You're not?" asked Dumbledore. "That's odd."  
  
"Actually, being straight is quite common, Sir."  
  
"Is it? It seems that every male I meet in the Wizarding world eventually turns out to be powerfully, throbbingly gay. Perhaps that's just a coincidence."  
  
"So…Sir…since I'm straight…perhaps I could be married to a powerful witch instead?" Harry cast about in his mind for a suitable candidate. "Like Tonks? She's pretty hot. When she's not doing that pig snout bit."  
  
"Oh no, Harry," Dumbledore chortled mightily. "There aren't any witches nearly powerful enough."  
  
"There aren't? Seems like there should be, what with magic being largely a mental skill and not connected to things like muscle and testosterone…"  
  
"But how many powerful female witches can you think of? Even Hermione, with her passion for learning the craft, is outmatched by you. Look at the three most powerful wizards in recent history: Grindelwald, Voldemort, and myself. Not a single bouncing breast among us." Dumbledore nodded sagely. "I think it has something to do with wands being shaped like dicks."  
  
"That seems awfully sexist, Sir."  
  
"It can't be helped. Our world was created by a man, after all: Merlin."  
  
"I thought our world was created by a wom—"  
  
"Look, the point is, a wizard is the best choice. And the wizard I've picked will be an excellent husband. And master."  
  
Harry gulped noisily. "Who is it, Sir?"  
  
"Who's what?"  
  
"This wizard who's going to be my husband."  
  
"Oh? Haven't I mentioned his name yet? Surely I must have."  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Indeed? How very surprising. I imagine you're desperate to know who it is. How torturous of me to neglect to tell you."  
  
"I'd have to agree, Sir."  
  
"Well, well, well," Dumbledore folded his hands across his belly. "In fact, he's on his way here now, so there's no point in discussing it."  
  
They sat for a moment, Harry fidgeting in silence while Dumbledore hummed tunelessly under his breath.  
  
"Sir," Harry finally broke in, "Since we're waiting, couldn't you just tell me—"  
  
"No," said Dumbledore firmly.  
  
A few minutes later, the door swung open and Snape entered. His black robes billowed and swept and swirled around him. Like a bat. A bat with an excellent tailor. He was tall and thin, with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. He flashed a feral grin at Harry, displaying his crooked, yellow teeth. Also, he smelled like onions and liverwurst.  
  
"Do we kiss in this ceremony?," Harry asked Dumbledore.  
  
"No, no," said Dumbledore. "You merely have to get naked and shag later. Kissing is optional."  
  
"Well, thank God for that."  
  
The marriage ceremony was delayed slightly when Snape was forced to explain to Dumbledore that headmaster of a boarding school was not quite the same as captain of a ship, and therefore did not automatically entitle him to officiate. But after apparating to the nearest public library and doing an online search for "quickie marriage," they soon had the appropriate officiant documents in tow.  
  
"Now put your left foot into the circle, Harry, and then take it out, like so…"  
  
Harry and Snape stood tottering on their respective right feet. "Are you sure this is necessary?" asked Harry.  
  
"Oh yes," said the headmaster, waving a sheaf of paper in front of him. "According to this ancient ceremonial rite, you are the Key. The Key called Ho."  
  
Harry shook his hovering foot to wake it up. "That's a bit crude, isn't it?"  
  
"Some ceremonies put it in plain terms. Not only are you the Ho Key, but Severus is the Poke Key…" Dumbledore frowned. "…and you turn yourself about…is this the right ceremony?"  
  
Snape dropped his foot and grabbed Harry by the arm. "Good night, Headmaster."  
  
  


X X X

  
  
Harry waited nervously on Snape's sofa. When they'd arrived at Snape's quarters, Snape had promptly disappeared into a back room.  
  
Finally, Snape reappeared. He was still tall and thin, but now his hair fell in clean, silky waves, his skin was the pale color of fine parchment, his teeth were pearly and even, and his nose would be described as "Roman" or "Aquiline" rather than "hooked" or "part of a shameless Jewish stereotype." His robes were partly open, displaying his rock-hard abs. Also, he smelled of sage and cinnamon.  
  
"Wow," said Harry. "What happened to you?"  
  
"Took a shower," replied Snape.  
  
"Loofah?" asked Harry.  
  
"Indeed. Actually, there's an interesting explanation behind why my hair is normally so greasy."  
  
"Huh," said Harry.  
  
"Do you not want to hear it?"  
  
"Not especially," said Harry.  
  
"Are you sure? It's quite fascinating. You'll never have guessed that this was the reason my hair has been greasy all these years."  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Oh," said Snape, looking disappointed. "All right, then. Shall we get to the sex?"  
  
Harry shuddered.  
  
"Now, now. No need to get melodramatic. I've found a way to reduce the trauma of a forced sexual encounter."  
  
"You mean therapy?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Meditative relaxation techniques?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Establishing a relationship of mutual respect and consideration and then waiting until I'm ready to take it to the sexual level?"  
  
"That would be an excellent way to proceed. Very insightful. But no."  
  
"What, then?"  
  
"My plan is to…" Snape paused dramatically, "…get you aroused beforehand."  
  
"Ah. That won't help much."  
  
Snape considered. "What if I got you drunk first?"  
  
"Still wrong."  
  
"Oh." He twiddled his fingers against his black robes. "I could light some aromatic candles."  
  
Harry sighed and headed for the bedroom. "No patchouli."  
  


X X X

  
  
Harry gasped as he felt Snape's finger touch his opening and twirl around it. Another hand reached out and fondled his balls. Another hand squeezed his cock.  
  
Harry frowned and looked down his body. "Where'd that third hand come from?"  
  
Snape released his cock and stretched out the hand. "What, this?" He fluttered the fingers. "I transfigure a spare arm for these occasions. It allows me to touch every erogenous zone simultaneously." Snape leaned back and used his two regular hands to each tweak a nipple, while a third hand reached down from his side and grabbed his large, glistening cock. The hand waggled it between Harry's knees. "Erotic, isn't it?"  
  
"Yikes," said Harry.  
  
Snape pressed Harry's knees against his chest with two hands while slathering lubricant over his cock with the third. Then he began slowly thrusting. "It's not—ungh—the only—guh—anatomical—aah—improvement—mnnngh—I made. Watch—gluh—this."  
  
And, while still thrusting, Snape bent down and began suckling Harry's cock.  
  
Harry saw stars. Pulsing, throbbing stars.  
  
"There's also this little maneuver," said Snape. Still thrusting and sucking, he bent his legs around until his feet slapped atop Harry's chest. He began flicking Harry's nipples with his big toes.  
  
"Wow!" Harry said. "How are you doing all that?"  
  
"I'm quadruple-joined," said Snape. "I also gave myself the ability to talk while giving a blowjob."  
  


X X X

  
  
The next morning, Harry was at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds when Snape approached him.  
  
"I suppose you hate me now," said Snape, scowling. "I only did what I did to protect you. And because I enjoy shagging students. But you're still stuck on the 'forced me to have sex,' aren't you?"  
  
"It's all right," said Harry. "I didn't truly know you, before. But I understand you now. I understand what kind of man you are. I understand that you're the kind of man who can give me mind-blowing orgasms."  
  
"Oh Harry," said Snape. "I'd always hoped you'd see that side of me."  
  
"I think we have a chance to be happy," said Harry. "If I can just stay out of Voldemort's clutches."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry," Snape reassured him. "You're safe, now."  
  
With a sudden gust of wind, Lucius Malfoy appeared, grabbed Harry, and Disapparated with him before Snape could react.  
  
Snape stared at the empty space where Harry had been. "Damn," he said. "Probably should have completed the protection ritual _before_ the sex."

X X X

  
  
Harry, naked as a mole rat, shuddered in his chains when Lucius Malfoy entered the room.  
  
"Soon you'll be _my_ slave, Potter," said Malfoy, leering over him. "First I shall attach nipple clamps. Then whip you. Then force you to give me a long, slow blowjob."  
  
"Oh my God," said Harry. "You own nipple clamps?"  
  
"Of course I own nipple clamps. I bought them the day after you stole Dobby from me. I went to Mistress Louisa's Nipple Clamp Boutique. And on that day, I swore revenge. Revenge with nipple clamps." Lucius held the clamps in question in front of Harry's eyes and snapped them open and closed like angry, nipple-hungry alligators. He pulled the nipples taut and snapped them on. "You will beg me for release, Potter."  
  
Harry looked up from the nipple clamps into Lucius's cold, unforgiving eyes. There was only one thing he could think in that moment:  
  
Ow, ow, ow.  
  
Lucius stretched his fingers across Harry's rock-hard abs. "So beautiful," he whispered. "And all mine."  
  
"Hang on," said Harry. "Aren't you straight? What about Narcissa?"  
  
"Who-cissa?"  
  
"Your wife."  
  
"My what?"  
  
"The mother of your son? Surely this must ring a bell."  
  
Malfoy eyed the nipple clamps in consternation. "Bells!" he hissed. "I should have gotten bells." He shook his head. "As for your question, Potter, of course I'm straight. I'm merely doing this to torture you and to gain a sense of power. It's not about the sex at all."  
  
"Are you sure? It seems to be a little about the sex."  
  
"No. This is a common way to torture prisoners."  
  
"I always got the impression those sorts of things were quick and dirty." He glanced over toward the bed. "I didn't expect them to involve so much…velvet."  
  
"I'm far too refined to use the average method of torture."  
  
"Nipple clamps are refined?"  
  
"You seem awfully obsessed with the nipple clamps."  
  
"They're awfully painful."  
  
Harry heard a high-pitched laugh and looked up to see the Dark Lord entering the room. Voldemort stood near Lucius and Harry, his wand raised. "Soon you will be enslaved to Lucius, not that betrayer to the cause." He dropped his wand for a moment and stomped his foot. "I can't believe he was spying on me and pretending to spy on Dumbledore! He told me he was spying on Dumbledore and pretending to spy on me!"  
  
"It was a tangled web he wove, My Lord," said Lucius.  
  
"Well, let's get on with it," said Voldemort, pulling out a sheaf of papers. "First you put your right foot in, then your right foot out…wait, is this the right ceremony?"  
  
There was a loud _pop_ , and Dobby appeared in the room, his bulging eyes showing pure rage. "I will save you, Master Harry!" he bellowed. He tore open his jumper in a display of violent strength. And then he tore the jumper underneath that. And the one underneath that.  
  
Lucius cast _Tempus_ and tapped his foot. Voldemort sighed impatiently.  
  
"Any time this year, Dobby," said Harry.  
  
Finally, Dobby reached his last jumper and tore it open with a final bellow.  
  
Displaying his rock-hard abs.  
  
"Dobby!" gasped Lucius. "I had no idea! The tea-towel left far too much to the imagination!"  
  
"Dobby is joining a gym, Sir," said Dobby. "I is getting three months free." And then, with a warrior's cry, he launched himself at Lucius.  
  
Lucius stepped back…and drop-kicked Dobby out a window.  
  
"Hey!" said Harry. "Dobby is my friend! Kind, and loyal, and…and…how did it feel kicking him out a window?"  
  
"Extremely satisfying," said Lucius. "Although I will have to consider a gym membership for the rest of my staff."  
  
Harry's cock suddenly sprung to life.  
  
Lucuis raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so that's how you bend, is it?"  
  
"No!" protested Harry. "I barely looked at his rock-hard abs!"  
  
"It's one thing to get turned on by torture, but _elves_?" said Voldemort.  
  
"I swear that's not it! It's like…my cock has a mind of its own!"  
  
Lucius looked at him. "What is this, your first erection?"  
  
Harry would have said more, but he discovered that he couldn't hold back any longer. The semen came spurting out in great gushes. Harry's cock spasmed over and over, shooting out the fluid like an automatic garden sprinkler.  
  
Chug-a-chug-a-ch-ch-ch-chug! went his cock. Harry moaned and swiveled his hips in a wide arc. The semen—so pearly, so glistening, and yet so very disgusting—splattered across Voldemort and Lucius.  
  
"Aah!" said Voldemort.  
  
"Ew," said Lucius.  
  
And then they began screaming, but Harry was feeling so good, he couldn't be arsed to keep his eyes open and figure out why.  
  
Harry's cock flopped down, like a soldier after a battle. A wet, hot, satisfying battle. Harry looked up blearily.  
  
Voldemort and Lucius were…shrinking. Big, gooey puddles were forming around them as they sank downward.  
  
"Noo!" cried Lucius. "The semen…"  
  
"I'm melting!" yelled Voldemort. "What a world! What a world! The mightiest wizard of them all, defeated by something so very small…"  
  
"Oi!" said Harry.  
  
Just then, Snape, Ron, and Hermione burst into the room. They were covered in cuts, and their shirts were torn, revealing their rock-hard abs.  
  
"Hermione! Ron! I'm so glad to see you! And your abs! What are you doing here?"  
  
"We're your best mates," said Ron. "We've been working hard to find you. What, did you think we'd abruptly disappear so as not to get in the way of all the sex you were having?"  
  
"Er…" said Harry.  
  
Snape stared down at the pile of goo that used to be Voldemort and Lucius. "The sexual protection I activated has worked. I suppose we can end the bonding spell now."  
  
"What?" asked Harry. "Dumbledore said the spell would seal me into a lifetime of slavery!"  
  
"Oh, he says that after every spell. He thinks it makes him sound dramatic."  
  
Hermione clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful news! Now you can be free!"  
  
"Uh huh," said Harry dubiously.  
  
"Harry?" inquired Snape.  
  
"It's just…I like being your slave now. Can't we keep the bond?"  
  
"Harry!" said Hermione. "What are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying the sex is really hot. So I want to stay a slave. Please keep me, Master."  
  
"I suppose…" began Snape, but Hermione stomped her foot to interrupt him.  
  
"You can't do this! Harry, good sex is not worth your freedom! Tell him, Ron!"  
  
"I dunno, Hermione," said Ron. "Maybe you should hold off on giving him advice until you've had sex yourself. You might need personal experience to understand—"  
  
"Oh really, Ron! I’m not going to wait to butt into Harry's personal life until I've had sex! That could be _years_ from now!"  
  
"Dammit," said Ron.

~End~


End file.
